


The Face of a Stranger

by Amber_Dahlia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Car Accident, Gen, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru Friendship, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, the color red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Dahlia/pseuds/Amber_Dahlia
Summary: After a horrible accident Oikawa has been left devastated in more ways than one. The month following the accident he is unable to get a wink of sleep. He is plagued by nightmares and something sinister residing inside of them. Alone and terrified, he will have to confront his inner demons in order to realize what he has lost.
Kudos: 9





	The Face of a Stranger

There was a dark abandoned building that stood sound and unmoving upon a small hill, broken-down old and rickety but never wavering in the wind. The looming trees of a dark pine forest surrounded its every side. Shattered glass spread about across the frozen ground. An old worn-down porch spread along the front of the building. Everything was spinning in the winding world of wind, branches cracking, leaves flying, the screaming of crows audible in the distance, like high-pitched shrieks that pierce the eardrum and make the heart pound. The building just stands there, in the middle of nowhere. There were no other sounds to be heard. The sun is setting behind the hill on which the house lays, leaving very little light to make out the small details of anything, but the outlines and shapes are all still clearly visible. With every step that was taken towards the house the feeling of fear became more and more intense griping at his throat like a hand meaning to asphyxiate its victim with sheer strength alone. Bright crimson blood splatter the old wooden planks that make up the house’s porch. There is a feeling of darkness closing in, tighter and tighter. Walls press in from every side; there is no escaping the atrocities within your own mind.

Oikawa woke with a start; he had tried not to scream but was unable to stop himself as the words “Help me!” managed to slip through his closing lips. His roommate rushed into his room and found him shaking violently underneath the covers with quiet tears streaming down his cheeks. The tall dark-haired man slowly approached the bed, pulled him closer, and hugged him tightly.

“It was just another bad dream.” The roommate reassured him.

Oikawa’s eyes were still darting around the room; they seemed to almost be looking for something. It was as if something was going to jump out of nowhere and attack him at any moment. When his gaze rested upon that of his roommate’s the whole world seemed to stop spinning. Safety began flooding out the sheer terror he had felt only two minutes before. His body started to relax, and his strained muscles finally gave into the softness of his roommate’s gentle but firm hold. There was a certain calmness he felt emanating off his longtime friend and roommate. The two of them stayed frozen in their places like statues for some time before anyone spoke. Oikawa was the first to break the silence.

“I think I’m alright now. Thank you Tetsu.”

The lanky black-haired man nodded as he released his hold on him. Oikawa gently laid his head down on his pillow, and he whispered his thanks into the expanse of a room much too big for a single person alone. His roommate nodded wordlessly pushing himself to his feet.

“Goodnight Tooru. Please try and get some sleep.” Kuroo said in a tired croaky voice.

Oikawa closed his eyes and focused on his roommate’s presence as Kuroo silently receded into the next room. These nightmares had been going on for about a week now. Every night Oikawa dreamt of the same old thing that just seemed more and more intense with every visit he paid to the dream world.

After he had woken up, Oikawa would find himself helplessly screaming and every night his very considerate roommate would rush in to find him shaking heavily under the covers of his bed. Every night Kuroo would pull him out from under his protective sheets and hold him until he calmed down, and every night was the same. The same look of fear in his eyes, the same sensation of panic throbbing off every inch of his body, the same shaky feeling that eventually gave way to frozen fear. Lately, however, it would take him longer and longer to calm down. Some nights the fear built up to a high that he had never experienced, where his body would throw itself into convulsions and then to continuous vomiting. There was also the hyperventilation aspect of it all. Every time Oikawa woke up, he woke up in distress, but of what, he was not certain. Once awake he could never remember anything that happened in his dream past the part of walking up to stand before the old rickety house.

He never understood why or how Kuroo put up with him night after night. It had to be exhausting waking up to your roommate’s shrill screams every night. It had to be annoying to have to wait hours at Oikawa’s side until he calmed down and regained his composure. He had no clue why Kuroo still bothered getting out of bed every night to comfort him, but he knew he was grateful. His roommate’s presence put him at ease as if Oikawa was desperately searching for comfort from another, and every time he watched his roommate leave, he felt a tinge of pain in his chest that he couldn't explain. He hated the feeling of being left alone, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. He wasn’t a child anymore; he was an adult, and something as simple as watching his friend leave his room shouldn’t upset him the way it does. 

Oikawa was certain that there was something in that house he continued to dream about, and he was pretty sure that whatever it was, it was the cause of his fear. Oikawa, however, didn’t mind that he could never remember what had been seen after approaching the deserted house, and he had no desire to find out. It just seemed too terrible to even think about, but there was something in the way his roommate spoke to him the next morning; it made him feel like Kuroo was gently nudging his mind and trying to uncover the secrets of his panic attacks that took hold of him at early hours of the morning. It wasn’t weird for his roommate to be curious, but Oikawa felt like there was something more hidden just beneath the surface of Kuroo’s intentions.

Other than the nightmares Oikawa had a pretty normal life, or at least he is pretty sure he did before the nightmares started. He has amazing parents that call him often to check up on him, maybe even a little more than necessary for a grown man who has already moved out. He knew he had amazing friends, but he can’t remember the last time he had visited them. Since the nightmares started, his mind has become consumed with feelings of fear and loneliness that transfer over into the waking world. His life outside the dreams was supposed to be happy and light, but he had a heavy weight following him around that he just couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. He had started spending more and more time in his room alone. He didn’t visit his friends or family very often, in fact Kuroo is probably the only person he has had contact with recently. There was a hollow feeling that crept into his stomach and began ripping him apart from the inside out, and it grew with every visit he paid to the dream world. 

The second week into his nightmares and the more extreme fear-based reactions had become a daily occurrence rather than just the odd night. His roommate seemed more tired lately and not quite as comforting as Oikawa had once found him. It wasn’t that Kuroo had stopped trying, but the exhaustion of being woken up night after night was finally getting to him. Also, whenever Kuroo attempted to soothe the screaming Oikawa, Oikawa found himself not feeling as calm in the other’s presence as he once had. As much as he appreciated Kuroo’s attempts to help, he felt like he was yearning for someone else. Another friend maybe? A family member? No that couldn’t be. Kuroo was his closest friend, and one of the only people who truly understood Oikawa for who he was. They were best friends…. But why didn’t that sit quite right with him? He felt like he was missing something, something incredibly important.

Kuroo had stopped rushing into his room every night when he screamed, and Oikawa now found himself having to scream at least four times before he would hear the opening of a door and then slow sluggish footsteps down the hall to his room. Kuroo was beginning to fall into step with the routine: every night he would wake up to screaming coming from Oikawa’s room, and every night he would get up and walk to his friend’s room, and every night he was unable to help Oikawa, so he would just simply sit in his room and wait until the last exhibit of fear was over. Then he would tiredly slink back to his own room and lay in bed unable to fall back asleep.

The past few days, however, had been working a little differently. Oikawa had begun to feel guilty for his roommate’s lack of sleep and tired appearance; he tried harder to keep the screaming to a minimum. He hated seeing his friend so tired because he was getting scared over a stupid dream and wasn’t able to control his emotions. It wasn’t like he was a child. He really shouldn’t be acting like one. After a couple days he succeeded in stopping the screaming altogether. Although he had managed to contain his desperate cries, Oikawa still couldn’t stop the feeling of overwhelming dread that enveloped his entire being. Instead, he continued his massive panic attacks alone in the darkness of his room at ungodly hours of the night.

One cold night in the middle of November, just like every other night Oikawa went to sleep. It should be such a simple thing to do, but with the way things had been progressing, sleep was anything but simple. As his eyes closed and his conscious mind slowly slipped away, the last thing he saw were the curtains dangling above his window. They were slowly swaying in the breeze coming through the open window. Their rhythm was soft and soothing as if they were dancing him into a deep sleep. Sadly, there was no deep sleep, and the image was brought back to the forefront of his mind: the old broken-down building standing alone at the top of the hill, pine trees surrounding it on every side.

Oikawa stood frozen on the spot for a moment, staring at the big empty building. He managed to pull his eyes off of it only for a second to size up the hill. It wasn’t a very big hill, but it would still take a fair amount of energy to climb to the top where the hell palace was awaiting his arrival. He took a deep breath to steady himself and began climbing. All the while he was thinking to himself how much he did not wish to climb the hill to the building. He wanted nothing more than to remain at the bottom of hill until his dream ended. Oikawa was trying desperately to tear himself from the path that he walked, but he was unsuccessful. He could feel a strong burning sensation in his legs from climbing the small hill, but his pace never slowed. It was almost as if Oikawa was inside his body with no control over his actions; he was simply a passenger along for the ride. He could still feel every sensation but could only sit and watch as his body lugged him up the hill to stand before his hell.

Arriving at the top of the hill, Oikawa’s body paused and looked around; he tried with every bit of energy he had to take in every little detail that he could of the world around him. His body didn’t allow him to look around for long; instead, it trudged up to the building and stood to face the front porch. The wooden planks of the stairs and porch had become weak, worn away by time and weather. Certain planks were even beginning to rot. Holes could be found every so often and it didn’t appear to be very stable. The railings of the stairs were now just a pile of junk wood laying on the ground, all snapped in half. There were dead leaves littering the porch. It appeared as though this building had been abandoned for a long time. Upon further inspection Oikawa had to say that it was much more like a house than just some random building. He took one step and the stair boards creaked under his weight, but his body didn’t stop. It didn’t even hesitate for a second; it kept climbing the stairs until it reached the porch and left Oikawa standing face to face with the front door.

There was something oddly familiar about this door like it was a view he had seen many, many times before. As a wave of familiarity washed over him, Oikawa came to the realization that this wasn’t just any old house. Just like it wasn’t just any old building but a house in particular; it wasn’t just any old house. It was his house. The one he currently lived in with his roommate Kuroo. A quick glance around the porch confirmed it: the layout was exactly the same as his house in the waking world. Why in the world was he standing in front of an older, colder, worn down version of his house? What could possibly be so terrifying about his own house? It was his home, the place where he lived. How could his home appear so broken like it did right now? He didn’t live in a broken home, or as far as he knew it wasn’t broken. Why did his dreams insist on showing him this image night after night?

Oikawa felt a sharp pain shoot up his left leg, and it jolted his attention back to the door in front of him. As he moved to approach the pain struck again, like he had been scratched by something sharp. When he peered down at the leg to see what it was his body had responded to for the first time since he had entered this dream, he saw nothing. Oikawa took the time to examine his leg closer and noticed that it was caught in a bundle of rose bush branches. The plant was dead and withered, but the thorns still sharp and strong like little knives plunged into his leg. The plant had grown tall enough to creep through the cracks in the porch, but this was the first time Oikawa was noticing the rose bush. He had been in this same situation many times, but fear had always taken control of his mind leaving him completely helpless in his own body and left him unable to perceive small details. He was oddly calm now. This time things seemed different, and he wasn’t sure if that should be reassuring or not. He was in the same place, the same situation, the same old thing, but this time something was different. It wasn’t anything perceptible to the eye, but more of a feeling, which was much more unsettling the more he thought about it.

Oikawa knelt down to untangle his leg from the thorny creature’s grasp. He reached for the branch and a large thorn pierced his hand. He withdrew it quickly in pain, and he examined his wounded hand that was slowly beginning to shake. There was a little dot of crimson red on his hand and it trickled down his palm to his fingertips, and then a drop landed on the wooden planks beneath his feet. Oikawa followed the little red droplet closely with his eyes; he was almost mesmerized by the subtly, and as it hit the porch his eyes widened in shock. The wooden planks of the porch were spotted with a red liquid leading all the way to the front door. He jumped back from the door yanking his leg from its cage of thorns. He winced with pain as the thorns locked in on his leg and tore at the flesh as he ripped it away causing a tiny stream of blood to run down his leg and add to the red stained porch. Panic began setting in as he was caught frozen in place just staring at the front door. Oikawa stared at the door without blinking, without breathing, without moving a muscle for what seemed like hours. When his muscles finally released their tension he was able to let out a giant sigh.

“I am only dreaming. I will wake up soon. There is nothing to worry about. I am fine.” He told himself in a hushed whisper, despite the lack of anything alive enough to hear him.

Oikawa’s eyes shot open, and he was sitting stiff, and alert in his bed. He was only dreaming. He was awake now. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was alright. His brain knew this, but to tell his body was a completely different matter. His heart was racing, sweat was dripping from his forehead, and his breath was quickening its pace, until he couldn’t keep up with it. He pushed himself back against the headboard of the bed and pulled his knees tightly towards his chest. He buried his face between his knees and arms and held himself tightly. All he could do when he got like this was wait it out. Eventually his breaths began to even out and he was able to raise his head. He had managed to soak his knees in tears he hadn’t even realized he was shedding. When his blurred vision finally cleared, his eyes were struck with the boldness of his scarlet curtains that were now stilled. His breath hitched in his chest, and he had to remind himself he was awake. As he wiped away the last of his tears, Oikawa noticed a faint coloring beneath his nails. Upon further inspection it was red, and it was definitely blood.

In a panicked motion Oikawa leapt to his feet stumbling slightly when his left leg hit the ground. When Oikawa peered down at his legs, he had multiple bloody scratch marks up and down his lower legs. They were in the same place as the rose brambles had captured his leg in his dream. The cuts weren’t deep, or severe, but just the fact that they existed in the same place as he had been cut in his dream was a little unnerving. Oikawa took a couple big, deep breaths, determined not to have another panic attack tonight. His mind began to wander and the next thing he knew he was ever so slightly limping towards the bathroom across the hall from his room. He was careful to be as quiet as possible, but the floorboards beneath his feet squeaked and squealed with every step. He managed to make it across the hall without waking his roommate. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He ducked down, past the mirror and squatted next to the sink. In the cupboard beneath the sink they kept a first aid kit where he could find something to wrap his legs. Oikawa rummaged around the mess before he finally found the small canvas bag that held certain medical supplies. He found some bandages that he used to wrap his legs after using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood. After struggling with the wrap in the dark for five minutes he stood up and quickly washed the blood from underneath his nails.

Oikawa laid awake in bed for awhile after that. His mind was blank, and he was afraid to allow his thoughts to wander too far, so instead he focused on his barren wall. His walls seemed so empty, like they were missing something, but that was probably just residual emotions from his dream. He laid awake and motionless for hours before he finally relaxed enough to let sleep take him once more.

A couple mornings after that night, he woke up and could feel dark circles forming under his eyes. He was tired and still half asleep, but he managed to drag his lifeless body out of bed anyways. After all, it was Friday and that meant early practice. Oikawa sluggishly dressed himself before he made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He couldn’t bare to look at himself in the mirror since the nightmares started, so he didn’t. He knew his dreams had been stealing his beauty sleep, and he didn’t even want to imagine how horrid he looked, so he didn’t. After brushing his teeth, Oikawa quickly took a comb to his hair before returning to his room and grabbing his practice bag. He always kept everything he needed for games and practices in his bag, so that on mornings like this when he was too tired to think, all he had to do was grab the bag. Oikawa slung the bag over his right shoulder and limped his way into the kitchen.

“Good morning Tooru, you’re sure up early! I thought you would have slept a little bit longer.” Kuroo called over his shoulder as he scoured the fridge for leftovers.

“Well you know how it is. I have to make sure I’m not slacking off even if I’m a little tired.” Oikawa responded.

With that answer Kuroo popped his head up to look at his roommate. Kuroo made eye contact and stared a minute too long for their awkward silence to be comfortable.

“What?” Oikawa finally asked.

“Are you going somewhere?” Kuroo asked already knowing the answer, but really hoping he was wrong.

“Yeah, it’s Friday. I always have early volleyball practice on Fridays. You know this.” Oikawa looked at his friend confused.

Kuroo’s face suddenly fell, and he looked incredibly sullen.

“Hey, Tetsu… is everything alright? Is there something wrong?”

Realizing that he had worried Oikawa with his expression, Kuroo immediately picked himself up. But there was no denying that Oikawa had seen that very desperate and worried expression on his friend’s face. It may have only been for an instant but that was enough to really bother him.

“Tooru, would you mind sitting down a minute please.” Kuroo motioned to a chair at the counter.

“Sure, but make it quick or I’ll be late for practice.”

Kuroo winced at his friend’s words but tried his best to hide it to no avail. “Ummm… well you see… Tooru do you remember that you were in an accident three weeks ago?”

Oikawa took a minute to think. Oh right! Of course! How could he forget. He had been in a small accident a couple weeks ago, and hurt his left knee. He was supposed to be taking time off of volleyball to recover. He didn’t remember much about the actual accident itself, but the doctor had told him that was fairly normal, and that he might start remembering slowly. Wow! He must have been incredibly tired to have completely forgotten he wasn’t supposed to be going to practices for a while. Oikawa burst out laughing and Kuroo gave him one of the most serious glares he has ever seen his friend give anyone, but that just made the situation even funnier.

“Tooru! I’m serious this isn’t funny.” Kuroo said in a stern voice as Oikawa’s laughter slowly increased.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It’s just I can’t believe I completely forgot I should be taking time off to heal up. I must be really tired to have forgotten that.” Oikawa said through giggles.

Kuroo’s face softened as Oikawa realized his mistakes. “Since you’re up, would you like some breakfast?”

“Sure, that’d be great Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo glanced over at his friend with a slightly shocked expression, but when he was met with Oikawa’s confused gaze, he turned back around as if nothing had happened. Oikawa noticed how strange Kuroo was acting this morning, and he couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy like there was something he was missing. It didn’t make sense for Kuroo to be so worried about a simple slip of the mind. Oikawa had been really tired lately and he had forgotten something, was it really something to be so jumpy about?

The next week Oikawa found himself in the same position as every other night the weeks prior. He fell asleep staring at his calming scarlet curtains and woke up at the bottom of the hill that carried his hell palace. Before he knew it, his body had forcibly dragged him until he was standing on the porch with the familiar weathered door looming over him. This was as far as he had gotten the nights of the week prior, and he had expected to wake up any minute now that he was there. When that never happened, Oikawa took a deep breath and approached the door; as he got closer his breath caught in his throat, and he paused a moment. Everything was silent as he reached for the knob, and the wind seemed to have quit blowing. He turned his hand on the knob and gave it a little push. The door squeaked open to reveal a small crack to the inside of the house. Oikawa peered through the newly opened crack but couldn’t see anything beyond darkness, so he pushed the door open a little further, just enough to fit his head through. He still saw nothing particularly interesting or concerning. It was definitely his house: the interior layout was also the same as in real life, except for one thing. This broken home of his was completely empty and deprived of any evidence that anyone had ever lived there. A huge feeling of relief welled up inside him because maybe he had always just been overreacting to his body’s sense of fear. There didn’t seem to be anything inside the house. Nothing remotely scary at all. Oikawa took one step into the house finding his fears were unfounded, and then he took another. The boards still creaked under his weight, but he had long since gotten used to the sound of the old porch. On his second step the creaking increased a little, the third step more yet and on the fourth step the worn-down planks gave way beneath his feet and he plummeted into darkness. Panic arose immediately, all of his systems were overworking themselves, his senses became more acute, and he became more fearful with every second he spent falling.

Suddenly he could feel solid ground beneath him once more. He was sitting on a cold concrete floor, and the hole through which he fell was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a single ray of light that allowed him to see; he was surrounded in complete and utter darkness. He had a feeling he was still in the house, but he really couldn’t be sure. As Oikawa stood up the only thing he managed to do was stumble around in the darkness. As far as he could tell there was nothing else or anyone else in there with him. He was alone in a dark place surrounded by cold, impenetrable concrete walls on every side. He had never felt more scared or alone than he did right then. He tried to scream, to call out to anyone who might be listening, or maybe to someone in particular, but he wasn’t sure who. Not that it even mattered because apparently in his dreams he didn’t have a voice, and when he screamed nothing came out besides empty puffs of air. When everything seemed hopeless, he curled himself into a ball on the cold floors and let himself be swallowed whole by the empty longing in his heart.

Oikawa awoke with a start; he jumped to his feet and placed his back against the wall. With a sudden realization that he was no longer dreaming, he slid down the wall and huddled close to it, never letting his back leave the wall. This was how he sat for five minutes looking around for the slightest sign of danger, jumping at every shadow that the trees cast through the window. After those five minutes had passed, he sank his head to his knees and began sobbing. The sound was muffled by his knees so as to not wake his roommate. Once he had come down off his adrenaline high, Oikawa noticed he was cold and shivering quite badly. He looked up and scanned the room one last time, then he noticed the window was left open. His window was left open and the wind had picked up, bringing in a cold, frozen breeze. His long curtains danced in the breeze framing his window perfectly to allow the shadows from the night to sneak into his room. Oikawa stood up and walked over to the window; he peered out the window, and saw the coniferous trees standing tall and dark all around the house. They were only silhouettes, visible because of the silver moonlight. Once he had closed the window, he retreated into his room. He then reached for the curtains to block out the moonlight carrying numerous shadows with it.

Once again he was unable to sleep for the rest of that night: his mind was spinning in a whirlwind of horrific ideas about his dreams and he just couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was in that house was a serious physical threat. His health has been steadily deteriorating with every night that passes; he becomes more sleepy, more scared, more confused, and more anxious. At this point he is nothing more than a big bundle of nerves.

After his particularly emotionally intense dream, his mind had finally cleared, and he had gone a full week without any incidents or nightmares. Nothing clouded his mind as he slept, until tonight. This night Oikawa laid on his bed for hours just staring up at his curtains. They were quiet and motionless without the breeze from an opened window. They were the only things visible in the darkness of his room, as they were a deep red color. The only color bold enough for his eyes to make out in the darkness. Oikawa’s eyes were drooping one by one, slowly closing as sleep washed over him like a peaceful ocean wave. Going an entire week without nightmares had made him hopeful, perhaps a bit too hopeful.

He found himself back in his worst nightmare once again, any peace he thought he had vanished. This time there was no need to climb the hill: he was already standing inside the house, almost like he had left off exactly where he was before he had been thrown into darkness as the planks below collapsed. Oikawa peered around the house looking for any signs of danger or unusual activity, but there was nothing. The house was silent and for the first time he could see some light; the sunlight from outside was streaming in through the windows as it had finally risen over the tops of the trees. He had a sudden urge to get out of the light, and the first place he thought to go was down the hall to his left, towards his room. The hallway was dark with no windows and no way for light to creep in, and it was the spitting image of the house where he lived in the waking world, minus all of the furniture and personal belongings. He walked to the end of the hallway where he found a door to a room. It was a room he knew very well. It was his room, the bigger of the two bedrooms in the house. Too big for a single person, and he found himself wondering why he had gotten the bigger room instead of Kuroo. He opened the door carefully and quietly as if he were trying not wake anything that could potentially be lurking behind the closed door. The door whined on its hinges as he gently pushed it open and entered the dark room. The room looked empty like there was nothing there, but he had this undying feeling he needed to look around anyway. He walked along the room keeping one hand on the wall to navigate his way around. Normally he wouldn’t have needed to do this because of his familiarity with the space, but with the room missing all of his belongings and furniture it became an uncharted territory. He had almost completed the whole circle of the room when he accidently hit a switch on the wall. The lights came on, and suddenly the room was illuminated.

Oikawa found himself face to face with the picture of a person on a shiny reflective surface. His breath caught in his throat; his eyes were open wide and staring at this stranger standing before him. Oikawa knew that mirrors were supposed to show reflections of whatever was in front of them, so he knew that the image of the man before him was himself, but it sure didn’t feel or look anything like him. His mind was in utter chaos as he gazed upon the face staring back at him, the face that was supposed to be his. This couldn’t be! He didn’t look like that, and this he knew for sure. He was in a dream; it was a dream and nothing more. When he woke up, he would be able to peer into the mirror and it would be his face that was looking back at him, and not the one of this stranger.

For the first time in a month Oikawa woke up screaming. Kuroo was by his side in an instant, having grown accustomed to the silence of the nights again, he was caught off guard by what was undoubtedly Oikawa’s loudest, shrillest scream yet. This time however Oikawa was not content with being comforted. He hurriedly pushed past his roommate and half stumbled, half limped to the bathroom. For the first time since the accident and since the nightmares had started, he dared to look at himself in the mirror. Tears streamed down his face as he analyzed the massive burns littering what he once considered a beautiful face. Kuroo slowly approached the bathroom and leaned himself against the door frame as he watched his friend map out every inch of his face with his hands. Oikawa finally removed his hands from his face and leaned heavily on the sink for support as he stared at himself.

“I’m not dreaming this time am I.” Oikawa breathed barely above a whisper.

“No, you’re not.” Kuroo replied simply.

“That isn’t my face. It’s the face of a stranger.” Oikawa mumbled through tears.

When Oikawa was sure he couldn’t stare at himself any longer he dropped his head to stare at the floor instead. As his eyes were met with the sight of the red rug laying on the bathroom floor his vision turned red and he collapsed to the floor sobbing. Kuroo was quick to his side, taking his friend in his arms and holding him tight.

“Do you remember now? The doctor said it might take some time, but that you should remember eventually, and I shouldn't push it.” Kuroo whispered into his friend’s ear.

With those simple words and the overwhelming color burning into his eyes, memories came flooding back to him, and he sobbed even harder. He didn’t recognize his own face staring back at him through the mirror. He didn’t recognize himself, and he hadn’t since the day the little red car had taken everything from him.

“That wasn’t my face! That wasn’t my face! It couldn’t be! I don’t understand! What happened to me? Who am I? Why am I so ugly?” Oikawa attempted to deny everything that had come barreling back into his head.

“You aren’t ugly Tooru! Please don’t say that!” Kuroo took his friend’s hands in his own.

“I-I-I re-remember, I was on my way to watch a volleyball tournament. I was happy and laughing and then out of nowhere a red car c-crashed into ours at full speed. Then I remember nothing but red. Fire, blood, car, everything was red, and Hajime…. Wait! Iwaizumi! Oh my god Iwa-chan! How could I ever forget about Iwa-chan! Where is Iwa-chan?!”

“I’m so sorry Tooru.” Kuroo cried as he held Oikawa tighter.

“No! No. Nononono! That can’t be! Where’s Iwaizumi?! Where’s Iwa-chan?! Iwa-chan! Where is Hajime! I-I-I can’t! Not without Hajime! It’s impossible!”

“I-I I’m so sorry Tooru.” Kuroo said again with a trembling voice and tears in his eyes.

Kuroo knew these words weren’t enough. They would never be enough. No words could ever be enough right now, but he didn’t know what else to say. What were you supposed to tell your best friend, and roommate when they had gotten into an accident and completely forgotten everything about the accident including the fact the doctor had said they would never be able to play volleyball again because of a seriously injured knee, and to make matters worse their lover of eight years, who had been in the car with them but wasn’t as lucky to make it out with his life? What was he supposed to say to his best friend who just remembered he lost everything to a car accident?


End file.
